


Little Demonic Miracle

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angels can sense love, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, The Blitz, Wings, and his demon, angel is a pet name fight me, aziraphale loves his books, cuz they’re demons, demons can hide love, under those sunglasses is a soft boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: Crowley scoffed and even with the sunglasses, Aziraphale could tell he was rolling his eyes.  “Y’know what I think would be ‘thoughtful?’ Not making me step into one of these next time.” He twirled his hands around to signify the sooty ruins of the church surrounding them. “‘M gonna need new shoes,” he muttered, beginning to saunter away.Aziraphale didn’t follow at first, still in a bit of shock. He just kept staring at the bag in his hands, fingers rubbing at the handle in wonder. It felt as though something was swelling in his chest, and it was warm, and it hurt.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171





	Little Demonic Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back again because I’m reading this and just finished binging the show, and i am IN LOVE. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this, and if you are a reader of my other work, I’m still working on The Stray, it’s just fighting me a bit. I’m hoping listening to Night vale again and having this help my writer’s block will push that along. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little work and if you did, please leave a comment below c:

“Little demonic miracle of my own.”

In the midst of smoking wreckage, Aziraphale found that the explosion had not wracked him more than this. He gaped first at Crowley—who didn’t seem to realize the weight of this matter—and then down at the collection of books in his outstretched hand. Realizing that he should probably do something about that, Aziraphale quickly accepted the case and pulled it in toward his chest. “Oh,” he breathed out. “I... Thank you, Crowley. That was very thoughtful.”

Crowley scoffed and even with the sunglasses, Aziraphale could tell he was rolling his eyes.“Y’know what I think would be ‘thoughtful?’ Not making me step into one of _these_ next time.” He twirled his hands around to signify the sooty ruins of the church surrounding them. “‘M gonna need new shoes,” he muttered, beginning to saunter away.

Aziraphale didn’t follow at first, still in a bit of shock. He just kept staring at the bag in his hands, fingers rubbing at the handle in wonder. It felt as though something was swelling in his chest, and it was warm, and it _hurt_.

“You coming, angel?”

Aziraphale jumped a little, looking up to see that Crowley had paused halfway across the field of debris. He was looking expectantly at Aziraphale, hands hanging in his pockets. Aziraphale took a shaky breath. “Ah, yes, right, of course,” he stammered, beginning to pick his way through the rubble. “Just, uh... taking my time, you see. Can never be too careful after such an...explosion. What with the—debris and such.” Oh, look, he was rambling. “So, I—I really must thank you, Crowley, for,” he cleared his throat, “thinking to save my...” He trailed off, realizing that he’d finally made his way to his friend.

Crowley was watching him stutter with barely concealed amusement. The burning remains of the church threw an orange glow across his shoulders and caught on the brim of his hat. It reflected back at Aziraphale in his sunglasses and that was when it truly struck Aziraphale: a demon— _this_ demon—had entered a church to save him from being (inconveniently) shot, and then went to the trouble to keep his books safe. All while risking the wrath of Hell.

Aziraphale clutched his books tight. “I love you.”

The amused smile fell right off of Crowley’s face. “Wha—?”

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry,” Aziraphale blurted out, face burning. He was white-knuckling the handle of his bag now, sudden clarity of what he’d said rocking the ground beneath him. “I don’t know what— why I said that, that was _horrendously_ out of line, I’m so sorry, Crowley.”

“Did you mean it?”

Aziraphale blinked up at him, surprised. Crowley’s face was unreadable, besides a sort of quiet desperation. _Oh, I’ve ruined everything_. But he still couldn’t find it in himself to lie, not to Crowley or to himself anymore. “I— Yes.” Crowley’s face fell and Aziraphale’s heart twisted. “Please don’t trouble yourself with it, Crowley,” he hurried to add. “It’s terribly stupid of me—“

“Oh, you’re damn right it’s stupid of you,” Crowley cut in harshly. He turned away, swearing under his breath. Suddenly, he spun back to face Aziraphale. “Do you understand what they would do? If they found out? _Shit_ , Aziraphale.” He took off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Aziraphale clung to his books for dear life, wishing he could discorporate right then and there. “I understand,” he rasped. “And I never expected you to feel the same, so please, don’t give it another thought. We can leave it. There—there doesn’t even have to be a ‘we’...anymore.” Swallowing hard, he gazed down at the ground through a blur of tears.

“It’s not as simple as that,” Crowley growled, and Aziraphale looked up at him fearfully. He was taken aback then, by the pain glistening golden in Crowley’s eyes.

“Why not?”

Crowley’s shoulders slumped. “Angel.”

And a wall that Aziraphale hadn’t known was there dropped away.

He had sensed love before, many times—it was natural for an angel. But he had never been so floored by a love such as this. It was the emotion with all the force of an immortal being behind it, years and years’ worth of it, pouring into him all at once. He found himself shaking. The books dropped from his hands with a thunk.

“H—how did I never know?” he asked.

“I’m a demon.” Crowley shrugged. “If you don’t learn to shut it off early, you’ll get eaten alive down there.”

Forgetting himself, Aziraphale rushed forward and pressed his lips to Crowley’s. Crowley huffed in surprise against Aziraphale’s mouth, but he didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, and there was an instant where Aziraphale saw everything that they could be, and it was _wonderful_ , and it was so gloriously _wrong_ —

Everything that Crowley had said earlier came crashing back and Aziraphale pulled away with a choked gasp. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t know why—“

“T’hell with it,” Crowley snapped, and he yanked Aziraphale back by the collar and into another kiss.

Their teeth clacked together, prompting a grunt from Aziraphale, and Crowley immediately softened. His hand curved around the back of Aziraphale’s head, fingers threading through his hair. Hesitant, Aziraphale placed his hands against Crowley’s chest. It only seemed to spur Crowley on, breaths ragged between the press of their lips, and it was suddenly overwhelming for Aziraphale. He felt the pull in his back a moment before great white wings unfolded behind him. They swept out over the ashy church ground and he broke the kiss, blushing. “Oh. Um.”

Crowley chased after him, pressing their foreheads together. His hat was nudged off of his head, hair alight with the embers’ flickering around them. “You’re so—“ He couldn’t seem to find the words, almost pained, and just enveloped Aziraphale in a hug.

It was somehow more intimate than the kiss, Crowley’s face buried in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. He’d never been so vulnerable. Aziraphale didn’t question it. He hugged back tightly, feeling the curve of Crowley’s back through his jacket and the way he fit against Aziraphale. He had always been wiry, compared to some of the other, hulking masses in Hell, and so much more beautiful. It was suddenly unbearable to think of him among those creatures. Aziraphale gave a tiny hum and wrapped his wings around them, shielding him and his demon in glowing ivory.

They were silent for a moment. Then,

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said into the hushed shift of feathers.

“What?”

“What are we going to do now?”

Crowley’s arms tightened around him, and Aziraphale smoothed his hand over the back of Crowley’s neck. Crowley blew out a rough exhale into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I dunno. Add another thing to the list of shit we don’t tell our bosses, I guess.”

“If you want to, of course.” Aziraphale pulled back to find Crowley’s eyes, gazing into them sadly. “Years ago, I don’t think I would have risked it but...” He lifted a hand to cup Crowley’s cheek, overjoyed when Crowley rested his head in his palm with a sigh. “You’re worth more than that. But it’s your choice, Crowley. I know your side are not quite like mine.”

“They aren’t,” Crowley stated, eyes flat. “Which is why we shouldn’t be idiots.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat to hide his disappointment. “So you don’t wish to...have a life...like this.”

Crowley closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, there was nothing but warmth in them for Aziraphale. “I want to have everything with you.”

It was the most direct, open thing he’d ever said, and Aziraphale lost his breath. “You do?”

“Angel, I’ve been in love with you for over a thousand years,” Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale has felt it when Crowley’s protection had fallen away, but it was somehow different to hear it on his demon’s tongue. He found himself getting choked up again. “Well, that’s quite good news,” he sniffled. “Because I was getting rather used to having you around.”

“Likewise.” Crowley smirked slightly, running his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. He placed a kiss on the angel’s forehead. “So. Need a ride, or were you planning on using these?” He waved a hand at the cocoon of wings around them.

Aziraphale turned pink in the cheeks. “Ah, no. I don’t think that would be wise at the moment...” Folding his wings, he let them disappear into his back with a flicker of white light. “I would very much appreciate that ride, though,” he added shyly.

“Come on, then. Been making sure another bomb doesn’t drop on us for the past half hour.” Crowley placed his sunglasses back on, then scooped up his hat from where it had fallen.

He began to lead the way out of the rubble and Aziraphale followed, retrieving his books. “You know, you could—if you wanted, that is,” he stammered, “come inside, when we get there. For tea or...something.”

“‘Or something?’” Crowley tossed a devilish grin over his shoulder and Aziraphale flushed from forehead to neck.

“Erm. Well, I wasn’t exactly implying anything like... _that_. I meant more like something other than—than tea, like wine or—“

“Oh, trying to get me drunk then?”

“No, I was simply—You _know_ what I mean!”

“I think I do, angel.”

“Oh dear.”


End file.
